


Ex Gratia

by CourierNinetyTwo



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Bondage, Dirty Talk, F/F, Other, Rough Sex, not so much hate sex as mutual venting sex, set before Mass Effect 1 for obvious reasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:47:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21923155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourierNinetyTwo/pseuds/CourierNinetyTwo
Summary: Some negotiations happen under the table - others happen over it.
Relationships: Aria T'loak/Benezia T'Soni
Comments: 10
Kudos: 46





	Ex Gratia

**Author's Note:**

> this is a smut fic but you're getting 5k of asari politics and feelings first

The last time High Command sent her to negotiate with Aria, six hostages died.

Benezia held no grudge, horrific as it was. The prisoner exchange had been ambushed by Terminus slavers intending to strike a blow against the Republics and Omega in one fell swoop. Unfortunately, they only succeeded in killing the most vulnerable, and Aria spent the next week on a rampage that dismantled three kidnapping rings. Like most of the elder matriarch's behavior, it was a masterclass in brutality.

They didn't meet often. High Command disliked engaging with Aria as a rule, but she held a part of space where Thessia's primacy verged on irrelevant. If they didn't keep a line of communication open, it risked unacceptable gaps in influence. Benezia possessed the patience and guile to keep the homeworld's priorities at the fore without falling prone to Aria's skillful provocation -- or reflexive attempts at bribery.

Tonight's neutral ground was a party on Illium hosted by Matriarch Thorema, a retired consort with a stranglehold on local eezo prices. Her estate was an exercise in curated indulgence, wealth flaunted only to those who had the knowledge to recognize it. Benezia counted three Nomia originals in the foyer, cradled by the architecture; Thorema must have built the entire room around them.

"Benezia." The host in question appeared, clad in a web of silver fabric that revealed diamonds of sky-blue skin with every step. Her smile was two glasses of  _ akantha _ deep, but Thorema's gray eyes were keen as ever. "It has been far too long."

She stepped forward, placing a fond kiss to Thorema’s tattooed fingers when they were offered. “It has indeed. My business does not bring me to Illium often enough.”

For good reason, considering how it inevitably stained the reputation of asari who feasted on the planet’s unique style of regulation. Thorema had cut her teeth bedding generals, though, so it hardly mattered to her.

That slate gaze sharpened with curiosity. “I am surprised that you didn’t take advantage of the plus one on your invitation.” 

“My daughter just took her first job away from Thessia,” Benezia demurred, ignoring the answering pang in her heart, “and I’m trying to give her at least a decade without my hand on her shoulder.”

“Pleased as I would have been to meet Liara, a matriarch of your standing deserves at least one pretty decoration on her arm.” Thorema laughed, soft and knowing. “I can’t imagine you lack for company.”

Shiala, standing five feet behind her in polished leathers and perfect silence, didn’t count. A bodyguard was considered obligatory on every invitation in this part of space.

“I have it on good faith that there is plenty of company to be found on Illium,” Benezia countered with a smile.

Best to seed the rumor that she sought someone to entertain her for the evening, rather than ulterior diplomatic motives. On a personal level, she liked Thorema, but High Command wouldn’t trust her with a fifty-credit chit.

The bait went down like a shot of  _ elasa _ . "Do I get to play matchmaker? This is why I love you, Benezia. You’re the spark every party needs."

“I think that honor lays with you, Thorema, but you make me all the brighter.”

Benezia let herself be swept into the heart of the party, cataloguing the guests she recognized. Most were investors whose portfolios shared stock with Thorema’s, but there were no less than three mercenary company captains, a well-known plastic surgeon, and the leader of a drug cartel with a dozen outstanding warrants. Illium had no extradition treaties, of course. The occasional justicar sweep was all anyone had to fear, and those concerned about such matters had whisper networks protecting them far in advance.

Aria was standing by the open bar with an arms dealer, Ione Na’vol. The latter had spent a hundred and fifty years in prison for murdering a salarian Spectre, only to be quietly released after his grandchildren declined to show at her annual sentencing hearing. Ione’s friends on Khar’shan welcomed her back with open arms, and clearly Omega had as well.

“Benezia.” Her attention was drawn back to Thorema, and the glass being offered her way. “To take the edge off.”

She had been paying too much attention to Aria’s companion, and not enough to whoever had filled the cup. Benezia took the drink, casting her eyes half-lidded, tone soft and playful. “This isn’t going to get me in trouble, is it, Thorema?”

“Please, it’s only honey mead.” The other matriarch made a subtle gesture Aria’s way. “She brought a thousand year old cask as a gift to make everyone else feel inferior.”

Benezia answered with a laugh, then took a careful sip. It tasted normal, a bolt of golden heat, and she had an emergency curative tucked out of sight if circumstances required. 

“But if you are so inclined,” Thorema continued, “ask one of my staff. Everything is cut pure, the dosages carefully measured. No side effects, I promise.”

Said staff milled around the room, matrons clad in their mistress’ silver. Each one was aesthetically pleasing as their surroundings, attending guests with smiles that radiated genuity. Drinks, stims, and credit chits passed between practiced hands, falling discreetly out of sight once their purpose was fulfilled.

“Tempting.” It wasn’t, truly; Benezia had seen far too many matriarchs saddled with addiction in their later years, when boredom and wealth muddled the risk. She only used stimulants under her doctor’s care, and only when an emergency required her to keep on her feet for forty-eight hours or more. “But I’ll need my wits about me to get what I want.”

Thorema’s smile turned wicked with affection. “Do you prefer the chase? Tell me your type. If they aren’t already here, I can have someone suitable within the hour.”

She made a show of sweeping the room, eyes open and curious. A cursory glimpse confirmed that Aria remained deep in conversation with Ione, likely biding time. The window for their meeting began in twenty minutes, which was more than enough time to leave Thorema satisfied as a host.

“Her?” The matriarch’s surprise was clear. Benezia bit her tongue; she had lingered too long in one direction. “I'm deeply aware of the company I keep, Benezia, but Aria is dangerous. She won’t play games with you.”

The slip turned opportunity in an instant. It confirmed Thorema had no clue about her previous meetings with Aria, and that the thought of her being hurt provoked enough concern to intervene. Benezia filed away both pieces of information with care, although the second was nowhere near as important as the first.

Despite her fame and reputation, she knew almost every matriarch in this room believed she was prey among huntresses, raised in Thessia’s gentle embrace. That she could topple them on a whim was unthinkable, and that was exactly how Benezia liked it. Even Aethyta had been fooled, once upon a time.

Her heart wrenched like two massive hands were trying to crush it, ripping the organ free from its cage of bone and sinew. Benezia hid the flash of pain in a deep swallow from her glass, willing herself to focus on the present. 

Fifty years, and that well of sorrow appeared to have no bottom, drawing agony to the surface with the slightest provocation. She still caught herself some mornings searching for a bracelet that had been returned before Liara ever took her first breath.

Work. She was here to work.

“Haven’t I ever told you, Thorema? I like them dangerous.” With a feigned smile on her lips, Benezia lay a kiss of parting on Thorema’s cheek. “I’m going to go and thank her for the mead.”

The other matriarch murmured something about Tevura’s whims under her breath, but Benezia was already weaving her way to Aria, careful not to draw any more attention than she already had. 

“It’s good tech,” Ione insisted as she approached, gesturing with an empty shot glass, “shreds through a krogan’s hide at a thousand meters, armor and all.”

The boast didn’t make Aria so much as blink. “I’ll consider the offer, but it’s a buyer’s market these days.”

Benezia made her pass subtle, as if she wasn’t listening to the conversation at all, but Aria’s eyes locked on her immediately.

“Benezia.” White teeth flashed in a fond, predatory smile. “What brings you out to the lawless wastes?”

Ione’s sales pitch died in her throat, and Benezia took advantage of the pause to reply, “Wastes? This is a six hundred million credit estate.”

Amusement flickered through Aria’s eyes at the parry. “I meant Illium as a whole. Have you ever seen the bottom of this planet?”

“I’m sure Lady Benezia has better things to do than frequent the slums,” Ione commented, then bowed her head. “Ione Na’vol. It’s an honor.”

That was unexpected. She knew Ione by reputation, but they had never met previously, and ran in none of the same circles. 

“She converted to siari after twenty years in the abyss,” Aria supplied, and that was all the context Benezia needed.

The  _ abyss _ was Terminus slang for solitary confinement, a practice Benezia had roused legislation against more than once. It was an intolerable cruelty for any species, but for their kind in particular, the mental and emotional effects were pronounced.

She suddenly had the sense that Ione’s scars went far deeper than the jagged tissue scaling the other asari’s throat.

“The honor is mine,” Benezia replied, lining her voice with a sedate edge. All was one, even when it came to unrepentant arms dealers. “Perhaps you could share such enlightenment with Aria one day.”

It was a purposeful barb, reminding the other matriarch they were here for business, but Aria’s recoil was no less genuine. “If I want to open my mind, I’ll be doing it with someone under me, thank you.”

Given the choice, Benezia would have breezed past the crude comment as if it hadn’t happened at all, but they couldn’t conduct their meeting until Ione was elsewhere. Sending the other asari off for another drink was insulting at best, and a momentary distraction overall. Asking Ione to leave was an even worse option, sure to lure in suspicion.

So she finished her glass, leaving the glint of honey mead on her lips and said, “Please, Aria. You’re going to have to try far harder than that to get me under you.”

From the corner of her eye, Benezia saw Ione’s brief, incredulous glance, weighing how serious their banter was. 

Thankfully, Aria was ever quick on the uptake; her smirk transformed into a full-blown leer. “Alright, opening offer: a million credits.”

“Are you joking?” The outrage in Ione’s voice was visceral. “Aria, that’s an insult to—”

All humor drained from Aria’s face at the interruption, replaced with vicious intent. “Did I ask your opinion, Na’vol?”

The arms dealer blanched, leaving her pale as the scar marring her throat. “I’m going to go bury myself in a desert of red sand. Find me if you want to talk business again.”

Ione excused herself without another word, and while Benezia regretted the circumstances, she couldn’t argue the results. 

Aria laughed under her breath as the third matriarch vanished, leaning against the bar like she owned it. “That was cruel. You knew she’d run the second it looked like she was challenging me.”

“It was calculated,” Benezia said smoothly. “Cruel would have been encouraging her to challenge you.”

The glow in Aria’s eyes was pure, unrestrained ego. “I hope the brass pay you well for that clever mouth. These meetings are almost enjoyable.”

Benezia took great pleasure at slinging verbal arrows when the occasion called for it, so she had to agree. “Shall we?”

“You know what everyone’s going to think.” Aria straightened up, giving Benezia room to abandon her cup on the bar. “Can your reputation take the hit?”

“Because you’re another asari, or because you run Omega?” The question held more heat than she intended, a sharper edge. “They’ll just be glad I’m not dragging you home with a bracelet on your wrist.”

The line of Aria’s jaw went slack, surprise stealing her voice.

It was the first time she’d ever struck the other matriarch speechless. Unfortunately, there was little room to savor the victory when the weapon had been forged from her own pain.

Aria cleared her throat. “After you.”

They went out the back of Themora’s estate to the floating gardens, where biotic plants lived and grew of their own accord. Exposure to element zero heightened their natural bioluminescence, casting the garden in a pleasant, unobtrusive glow. For a fleeting moment, it reminded Benezia of home.

A surreptitious omni scan confirmed there were no recording devices, and the only cameras of concern faced the perimeter. Aria’s bodyguard—Bray, like his father before him, if Benezia recalled correctly—exchanged a quick message in sign, and Omega’s ruler looked satisfied.

“Anything of note?” she directed back towards Shiala.

“Thorema’s perimeter guard has their eyes down below. I’ve run one of Jinan’s interference protocols to make sure they’re not listening outside our range.”

The commando fell silent again, mentally invisible. Benezia’s mind returned to the task at hand, preparing herself for every objection and loophole Aria would twist her way through.

“So what flavor are High Command’s boots today, Benezia?” Aria asked. “The batarians aren’t sniffing around any more than usual, so something else must need polishing.”

The fact that she had the temerity to play oblivious would have been impressive if it wasn’t also a waste of time. “Calla Naket’s omnitool fell into your possession. That is Republic property, and you haven’t taken measures to return it.”

“You’re worried about the omnitool?” Aria’s head dipped to the side, amused. “I thought you’d at least pretend you wanted to recover your little spy’s body.”

It was a tragic loss, not only of a valuable member of the intelligence community, but of a kind, witty matron who had a very bright future ahead of her. Calla was a courier of admirable skill and deportment, maintaining a sense of humor no matter the risk she was plunged into. 

Said risk had caught her in a triple cross on an abandoned mining station in Omega’s orbit, as the union of disgraced commandos Calla had spent months infiltrating suddenly split their loyalties along violent lines. The weapon codes she was trading them—fakes, although they didn’t know it then—became the flashpoint of the conflict, and her last coded message to High Command was one of sedate acceptance:  _ So I return to the sea. _

She had ended her own life immediately after, knowing the information on her omnitool and locked inside her mind was worth infinitely more than a set of false codes. Horror didn’t quite quantify Benezia’s reaction; the only reason to make such a sacrifice would be if Calla’s captors planned to forcibly meld with her, an unspeakable violation.

The death lock on Calla’s omnitool made it into a piece of junk for the commandos, and they hawked the device on Omega for a fraction of its worth. Benezia hadn’t known until this moment that they’d sold off her body too.

“You have both?” she inquired, voice tuned to empty neutrality.

Aria nodded. “Despite what some may think, fresh corpses are pretty hard to come by on Omega. They’re invaluable for many avenues of business.” 

Benezia decided then and there she was willing to sweeten the deal High Command had authorized her to offer. She didn’t expect Aria would turn Calla to monstrous purpose—the other matriarch had far too many resources to require that—but the thought of the young courier being abandoned to an industrial incinerator incensed her nonetheless.

“Three prisoners of your choice,” Benezia said, already composing a story about Aria’s relentless brinkmanship, and the importance of the omnitool to Thessia’s continued safety, “and we’ll delay the legislation on eezo refinement standards another two years.”

Aria made a show of considering her words, but Benezia knew there was little chance she’s refuse. While a dedicated team of hackers might be able to break the encryption on the omnitool given a decade or two, High Command would savor any opportunity to open fire on Aria’s more profitable interests for far longer than that.

“I only want one prisoner,” Aria replied, and Benezia carefully muted her surprise, “but there’s no negotiating on who she is.”

That rang several warning bells in the back of Benezia’s mind, but after running through the list of Thessia’s detainees, not a one seemed worthy of Aria’s sole attention. “Her name?”

“Lyti T’Sel. She’d be about two hundred by now.”

Benezia blinked. She had absolutely no idea who that was. “Aria, I’m not sure what you’ve been told, but she’s not in our custody.”

Irritation pulled at the edge of Aria’s mouth, baring a crescent of her teeth. “She is. You just don’t call it prison.”

After centuries of the matriarch’s particular brand of humor, Benezia knew she wasn’t being toyed with. Rather than argue further, she brought up her omnitool and entered the name, cross-referencing it with every High Command database she had access to.

When the relevant file loaded, Benezia couldn’t stop her eyes from going wide. “Aria, that is out of the question.”

“Then I’m going to crack Naket’s tech open like a varren’s skull,” Aria replied, equal parts serious and malicious. “And every dirty secret she ever polished up for High Command is going to the top bidder.”

The second half of that threat was a lie, to be sure. Aria would benefit far more from using that knowledge herself, disrupting operations that had been centuries in the making. Yet it was a dire threat nonetheless.

What Benezia couldn’t comprehend was why Aria would even dare to ask for this in return.

“Lyti T’Sel is an Ardat-Yakshi. She already committed one murder, and I am not setting her free to commit more.”

“She didn’t murder anyone,” Aria growled, “it was an accident.”

That wasn’t in Lyti’s file; Aria spoke from deep, personal surety. “Aria, is she yours?”

”A daughter of mine?” Her tattooed mouth pulled in a tight frown before she shook her head. “No, but her mother is very loyal to me. So loyal she’s rotting from the inside out on a clinic bed right now.”

_ Rot _ had a specific implication for their species. While aliens exposed to unstable element zero either died or acquired biotic abilities, those who already possessed said abilities could suffer different effects. It collapsed the immune and nervous systems in a truly gruesome manner, corrupting internal biotic nodes until they started to devour the tissue around them. 

A fate no one deserved, but Benezia could not trade galactic safety over sympathy. “That’s rather sentimental of you.”

Aria’s expression faded to an aloof mask. “I reward loyalty. Everyone on Omega knows I can make Thessia bow, and I won’t let them think otherwise.”

There it was, the power play at the core of this. Benezia had no doubt that Lyti’s mother was dying—that would be simple enough to prove—but if High Command authorized the release of an ardat-yakshi, one proven to possess the lethal strain of the syndrome, on Aria’s demand, she would be able to hold that over them until the day she died. A roll of state secrets were being bartered for highly virulent ammunition.

Yet it was ammunition that would lose its strength with time, unlike what Aria currently possessed. Contingencies could be set in place to nullify the political damage, blame dropped on whoever was falling out of favor. It was as Aria said—proof she could make Thessia bow to her whim, violating their own laws to please her. A reminder that their collective will could not challenge her own without consequence.

Of course, agents could be sent to retrieve the omnitool, but the first five wouldn’t survive. Perhaps the first ten. Every day that passed with that knowledge in Aria’s hands, even deeply encrypted, was another day that centuries of carefully nested plans fell into jeopardy. 

“I have to admit my curiosity, but in return, I will not relay any answer you give to High Command.” A promise she had given only a few times before; it could inform her own actions, even if she could not transmit the truth directly. “What is this vengeance for?”

A glint appeared in Aria’s eyes, sharp enough to shear an atom in two. “We both have daughters, Benezia. Wouldn’t you do anything to get yours back if she was locked away?”

That was a non-answer, but the look on the other matriarch’s face was enough. Whatever slight Aria was seeking satisfaction for, this would sate the urge—at least for now. 

“I can’t grant Lyti full clemency,” Benezia began, measuring the rhythm of her words so it would be difficult for Aria to interrupt, “but her mother only has how long left? A month?”

“Two at most,” Aria confirmed.

“Then in the interests of mercy, for both a mother’s and daughter’s grief, I believe a special arrangement can be made.” Overall, a small price to pay; she could convince High Command of that, for a symbolic loss of pride was far less a threat than many other demands Aria could have fashioned together. “Lyti will be granted dispensation to see her mother for the duration of her illness and attend any funeral rites. Afterwards, she is to return to the monastery.”

“If you’re only offering two months, then I’m taking the delay on that legislation too,” Aria said.

The irony didn’t escape Benezia. Some accident with element zero was consuming Lyti’s mother from the inside out, yet Aria stood here fending off regulations to control its dangers. “One year, not two."

Aria crossed her arms. “Three years, and you get Calla with the omnitool. I’ve kept her pristine.”

“She is a person, not an artifact!”

The words snapped past Benezia’s teeth before she could rein them back in. She expected Aria to laugh, some sly blade of mockery slipped between her ribs, but instead the other matriarch leaned forward until their faces were a mere inch apart.

“Lyti is a person too. She was ripped out of her mother’s arms against her will, then sentenced to wither under a justicar’s thumb for the rest of her life because her father made the mistake of trying to meld with her when she was sick.”

They held so many lives in their hands, and transformed them into endless tools—gifts, lures, bludgeons. Benezia always had faith in her mission, but it was nights like this that she despised the cost. She couldn’t even blame Aria; regardless of any ulterior motives, claiming that Calla was worth more dead than Lyti who yet breathed would be an insult to them both.

“Three years, as long as the omnitool is returned alongside Calla in twenty-four standard hours. Untouched. If there’s evidence you tampered with either, I’ll have that legislation on the floor myself before the week is out.” 

“Bray,” Aria called back to her bodyguard, “get Lady Benezia what she wants.”

The polite title was one final jab, but she weathered it without a word of protest. “I’ll relay our agreement to the relevant parties.”

“They won’t thank you,” Aria said, still close enough that Benezia could read the faint echo of older tattoos on the other matriarch’s face; she must have changed them more than once before the technology was fully refined. “I have no idea how someone like you can stand playing into their hands.”

Anger pulled Benezia’s throat tight; this evening had left her with no patience for assumptions. “Someone like me?”

“Listen, we don’t talk, because we probably shouldn’t in order to keep this little arrangement intact. But that look you gave me right before we walked out here?” Something flashed in Aria’s eyes, although she wouldn’t dare call it sympathy. “It was like someone was twisting a blade in your gut and leaving you to bleed out.”

Benezia bit back a curse. Letting Aria—of all people—see that sort of vulnerability was a careless mistake. “Your point?”

“I know what the Thessian elite did to you after you locked bracelets with your bondmate. And I bet the moment you cut ties, they tried to slip back into your good graces like nothing happened at all.”

That was true, but the reminder only soured her mood further. “If there is a purpose to this needling of my personal affairs, cut to it. Now.”

“You’ll never be satisfied as long as you’re having to bend to the same people who were more than happy to put your life’s purpose to the torch the moment it suited them.” Aria’s voice was a whisper now, but it rang like a siren’s call. “Haven’t you ever wanted to lash out at them? Even just a little?”

Benezia laughed, although the sound was bitter. “If you’re trying to convert me to your side, Aria, this is not the way.”

“I’m not an idiot. You couldn’t care less about Omega, much less me.” Despite that fact, Aria smiled, bright with ambition. “What I’m offering is a mutual settling of grievances.”

It took a moment for the implications to fully sink in. Benezia weighed her words with care, aware that acknowledging temptation was far more productive than trying to bury it. “That won’t change anything. It’s just another game to play.”

“A game you’ll remember every time they buzz your omnitool,” Aria declared, “every time they mention your daughter and never ask about her father.”

Aria had flirted with her before—on almost every occasion they were in contact, in fact. Yet it was always a one-sided display of ego, the ability to get away with such declarations and see no punishment save the occasional verbal parry. This was a true offer, not an exercise in stroking her pride.

“And what do you get in turn?” No matter what was said aloud, this would be transactional in nature. “Bragging about bedding Armali’s scion would make you look childish.”

“You think I’d tell anyone about this?” Aria sneered. “Maybe I misread you, T’Soni.”

She took a step back, but Benezia seized the front of Aria’s jacket with both hands and pulled her in once more. Physically, the other matriarch’s strength was her superior, but the element of surprise was an excellent equalizer.

“Be honest with me.” Benezia threw each word like a knife, then pressed the last one to Aria’s throat with breath and intent. “I always know when you lie. So tell the truth, and maybe both of us will have a much better night for it.”

Blue eyes flickered down to the grip on her jacket, and Benezia relaxed her fingers, but didn’t let go. “Some part of you hates them now, for what you had to give up.”

Whether or not she entirely agreed, it was a statement rather than a question. She stayed silent, holding Aria’s gaze as it came back up.

“That means some part of you understands what they do to me every fucking day of my existence.” A faint smile fled across Aria’s lips. “I can’t even put Matriarch in front of my name unless I want to invite jokes from every corner of the galaxy.”

Benezia had known that for quite some time, although she’d never be foolish enough to say such a thing out loud. While it was only tradition and not formal law, almost every asari that transitioned to their last stage of life informed High Command, and received public acknowledgment in turn.

She was sure that Aria had meant to provoke them by her declaration, but someone within the top levels of government had taken particular exception to it. The statement High Command released in response had been a flagrant insult:

_ Our review indicates that Aria T’Loak’s history of fraud, subterfuge, and tampering with public records mean that is impossible to verify her age or personal status. As such, we decline to acknowledge her claim of ascendance. _

It was petty, far more childish than what she had just accused Aria of, but also intent on proving that ruling in the Terminus would always make her second class in High Command’s eyes. She could never be an equal in anything comprising asari society. Exile, by any other name.

Their disdain had nothing to do with her criminality. Many matriarchs had wild, violent pasts that now drew laughs over post-consensus drinks, but none of them ever held the power that Aria had come to possess. 

The night she succeeded in her conquest of Omega, High Command had reached out with an offer: the station could become the Republics’ jewel in the Terminus Systems, brought into the fold and polished to a shine. In theory, Aria would have immediately become a member of High Command herself, sealing a vacuum in asari political power and putting every alien in the system on the back foot.

Yet she had refused. It was not a polite or careful refusal either, mocking High Command on every extranet feed that dared to air the audio. No bribe or threat had succeeded, stalling out negotiations year after year until a muted statement from Thessia recognized Aria’s singular claim to Omega, without caveat or exception. She had won, but at the cost of enraging a legion of asari powerful enough to devote the rest of their lives to a grudge.

Benezia knew what she experienced was nowhere near as extreme, but the intent was identical. When news of her bonding to Aethyta broke, the impact rippled through her life for years, starting with invitations to the ceremony returned unopened, building to key allies disappearing in hours of need, and ending with the worst night of her life, when she told the asari she loved to the very depths of her soul to leave and never come back.

For as much as it had done to salvage her career, Benezia had yet to shake the notion that she was a coward. Complaints about pureblood unions made simple fodder for the tabloids, but she’d never once cared for what they printed. It was Aethyta in particular that threatened her politics, her so-called friends.

Under her sometimes abrasive, often boisterous exterior, the elder matriarch had an unmatched capability for seeing the long view. Benezia had spent her whole life building a new future for the asari, but Aethyta held a clear eye on the past, picking out systemic flaws that their people—and the galaxy as a whole—were keen to ignore.

Together they had pushed an agenda that could have uprooted the very foundations of asari power and responsibility, had it been allowed to take shape. It was a challenge to High Command, yes, but one intended to foster unparalleled strength and success. As Shastessia and Medokos had proven, there was no progress without upheaval, as old soil was cleared for new growth.

For all her hopes, Benezia had only been able to recover her own reputation, reconnecting to the siarist community that fostered her and falling into line with the will of the Republics. After so many frustrating years, Aethyta no longer had it in her to bend, and thus they had shattered.

“I don’t hate them,” she finally said aloud, “at least, not any more than I hate myself.”

“For losing?” Aria asked, although it seemed rhetorical. “Because I’m what happens when you win.”

This time, Benezia looked down, taking in the grooves her fingers had left in white leather. It was softer than it looked, with far more give. The lining was vivid against the tone of her skin, dyed the traditional red of triumph. Victory, but at what cost?

Solitude, at the top of a very lonely peak. Benezia knew Aria’s daughter was named Liselle, but didn’t have the first idea who the other parent might be. No one did, although High Command had financed an investigation into the matter, seeking leverage. If they found nothing, whoever it was had to be dead.

“Vengeance won’t get me what I want,” Benezia said, firmer than she believed.

“It’s like punching a needle in your throat when you’re choking,” Aria murmured, “it lets you breathe.”

Not without pain. Yet perhaps pain taken by choice would be a relief, compared to being at the mercy of a wound she didn’t have the first idea how to heal.

“What do you get from this?” She swept her thumb over the leather, and wondered for the first time what Aria might look like out of it.

“What do you think?” Aria’s hands eclipsed hers and squeezed—hard enough to make Benezia’s fingers ache, but light enough to know she was holding back so much more. “I get to fuck the matriarch High Command thought would slip a leash around my neck.”

The answer was simple, straightforward, and believable. Benezia imagined there was even an element of truth in it. Yet it was impossible not to suspect that Aria was lonely too, for the dark was no more welcoming than the light. There had to be no shortage of willing partners for Aria to take to bed, but finding someone who understood her, even a fraction?

No amount of credits could buy that.

She had already made her decision, but Benezia wanted her body and mind in sync, which would require a little provocation _.  _ “Such presumption about my tastes.”

Aria’s smirk returned, hungry and arrogant. “Oh, I know I’m not that far off the mark.”

Perhaps not, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t make Aria work for it. Benezia slipped from the hold around her fingers and made a cursory glance at the time; it was just late enough that Thorema would forgive her for leaving.

“I assume you have property on Illium,” Benezia said, making it clear she expected that to be the case. 

This was certainly not happening in a hotel, where it would splash headlines before they even reached the afterglow.

“Fifteen minute drive,” Aria confirmed, “I’ll send you the passcode.”

She turned and left the gardens without another word, Bray following like a shadow in her wake. Benezia rehearsed her farewell to Thorema on her way back inside, drawing her friend over with a look.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” she said softly, and let genuine gratitude fill her eyes.

This time it was Thorema who kissed her on the cheek, although there was no smile to speak of. “Message me in the morning to ensure you survived my hospitality, mm?”

There was nothing to do but agree, so Benezia retreated with as much grace as the moment allowed.

She followed Shiala out to the skycar, watching with only distant interest as her captain of the guard scanned and examined the exterior. Once the interior check was complete, she let the passenger door rise open so Benezia could take her seat.

It closed again with a soft click, and Shiala came around to the driver’s side, securing her belt with the same habitual efficiency. Benezia stared out past the tinted, bulletproof screen, waiting for the engine to start, but after a moment lost in her own thoughts, the sound never came.

“Is there a problem with the address?” she asked, reaching to bring up her omnitool and check Aria’s message a second time.

Silence reigned a minute longer before Benezia looked at Shiala, mystified until she read the commando’s posture. Both hands were in her lap rather than on the console, clenched into uncharacteristically tight fists. Her entire body was rigid, eyes straight forward rather than directed towards her.

“Shiala.” It was not an order, only a plea for understanding.

“I know this is not my place,” the matron began, but the words were deeply strained, “but I must ask you not to do this.”

Benezia blinked, surprised. Shiala had accompanied her on any number of liaisons over the years and never once commented, even when the resultant coupling had been in earshot.

“May I ask why?”

For the second time, silence blanketed the car. There was no sound to mark time’s passage save the beating of her own heart, no proof she had been heard if not for the faint twitch of muscle in the matron’s jaw.

“Because...” Anger twisted around the syllables; Benezia could count on one hand the number of times she’d heard Shiala express that particular emotion, and they had all been before she left Aethyta. “I am concerned that if the worst occurs, I won't be able to protect you.”

Shiala had guarded her in arenas packed with thousands, asari and alien alike, so the threat could only be one thing. “You believe Aria is going to hurt me?”

“I believe she is capable of it in every sense of the word.” Shiala sighed, then shook her head. "But what worries me more is that you may want her to. With all...due respect."

She would have taken amusement at the fumbled addendum, were the matron not so starkly serious. "Shiala, this is not an act of self-destruction. In fact, it may be one of the only ways I can vent what I feel right now without doing something I will have cause to regret."

Thankfully, her directness seemed to cut through the heart of her bodyguard's tension. The line between Shiala's eyes hadn't faded entirely, but her hands lay slack in her lap. "She has something you need?"

That was a rather utilitarian way to put it, but Shiala was a utilitarian person, and it was best to assure her in those terms. "Yes."

“I see.” She drew in a deep breath and then released it, slow and meditative. "Then it will be as you wish."

While Shiala's hands moved by rote, starting the skycar and pulling them out of Thorema's private lot, the look on her face was unreadable. Benezia didn't wish to stare, to cut the truth from someone she trusted with her life using body language and learned tells, but she couldn’t shake the notion that a great deal had been left unsaid.

Aria's property was a tidy, elegant complex whose value was magnified by the lack of other buildings near it. The design appeared to have little in common with Aria's personal tastes, but it wasn't exactly a private hideaway if Omega was painted on the walls for all to see. What mattered was that the passcode worked, dropping the barrier at the gate long enough for Shiala to drive through.

The garage opened as they approached, and Shiala parked next to the sleek black number that Bray must have driven. Benezia waited to be let out, not wanting to disrupt their routine any more than she already had, before following the path out of the garage to a narrow glass elevator. 

When the doors opened on the penthouse suite, the decor was far closer to Aria's individual style. Dark wood and custom tech fused with vivid splashes of light, casting the room in slices of brash color. Benezia guessed the sound system near the bar was half the cost of the main room, even if she doubted Aria paid full price. 

The matriarch herself sprawled in a massive black seat, with a glass in one hand and gesturing to Bray with the other in fluid signs. It was a dialect Benezia had never learned, for it was nigh-exclusive to Omega, transforming the pidgin of half a dozen species into rapid gestures that eased communication—and possessed some of the filthiest curses known to the galaxy. She was impressed for various reasons, but primarily its virtue in letting the speaker hold two conversations at once, if they so chose.

"I was starting to wonder if you'd gotten lost," Aria said, letting her free hand fall into her lap. "Is there anything else you need to know before we start?"

"Only where our bodyguards will be in the interim," Benezia said.

"Bray will be right by the bedroom door." The other matriarch knocked back the rest of her drink; it had been Noverian rum by the color. "Your escort's welcome to wait with him and make small talk."

Shiala detested small talk, but she possessed a great deal of patience. Benezia suspected the latter would ease the former. "Suitable enough. If you would be so kind as to lead the way."

Aria's hum of amusement made it clear that kindness was the last thing on her mind, but she left her glass behind and rose in one sinuous movement. This may not have been Omega, but it was surely her domain, and the confidence in her steps would have shamed a commando half Aria's age. Benezia found it impossible not to watch; no matter her political bent, warriors had always been to her taste—muscle and sinew, the crackle of well-honed biotics, scars and tattoos that displayed a lifetime of prowess.

By virtue of aesthetics, Aria was deeply pleasing. What remained to be seen was whether they were compatible in other ways.

The bedroom was larger than the first temple commune quarters Benezia ever slept in, with its own bar and another extensive entertainment system. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered an impeccable view of Nos Astra’s skyline, a miasma of blue and gold where the business sector moved relentlessly, no matter the hour. A newsfeed trailed down one of the secure glass panes like running water, displaying everything from the outside temperature to adjustments in night market stocks.

It seemed less static than the living room, which Benezia suspected Aria hadn’t spent more than a moment’s time in for months. A pair of datapads lay at cross-purposes on the bedside table, a half-empty bottle of brandy tucked in the nook underneath beside a stout violet glass. This place had been touched, buried into.

When the door slid shut behind them, she heard no less than three locks snap into place. Benezia’s heart jumped, but there was no fear to speak of.

Goddess, it had been a long time. Far too long.

“Do you want a drink?” Aria asked, gesturing to the polished marble counter. It was a cut known as Serrice Storm, named for the streaks of raw silver that pierced it through; importing the slab to Illium must have been an outrageous expense. “I would have offered in the other room, but I thought we could use the privacy.”

“No,” Benezia demurred, “but I do want a meld in order to establish boundaries.”

That was non-negotiable, so she was relieved when Aria nodded, showing no hint of hesitation. “Surface only. We don’t need to be playing around in each other’s heads.”

Not unless there was business on the table, anyway.

She stepped forward, cupping Aria's face between her hands. Gloved palms settled on her shoulders in turn, rough against the drape of silk. Benezia traced the tattoos under her thumbs in slow, curious circles, learning the lines of ink as the first barrier around her mind fell away. A biotic spark danced under her skin when Aria did the same, letting the connection take root. Their eyes mirrored one another's, blue shattered black.

In her siarist teachings, Benezia taught her students to picture each mind as an ocean, capable of spilling into one another and elucidating all perceived boundaries. Yet she found Aria’s mind akin to the void of space, dark and infinite, possessing everything in its relentless grasp. It was only a glimpse before the meld stabilized, but enough to make Benezia shiver.

It had been years since she had made her desire manifest, but the flash of lust from Aria's mind centered her in the moment, a beacon of hunger and heat. Images spilled forth in its wake—the same leather-clad hands on her shoulders around a willing throat, a litany of promises whispered against skin bruised in blossoms of purple, each one more explicit than the next—and Benezia offered the same, a mix of memory and fantasy with names and faces blurred, stripped down to raw provocation. 

The effect was like lightning in a bottle. A storm brewed under Benezia's skin, energy arcing forth in an unmistakable display. Aria's answer was just as eager, her power framing starless eyes and bared teeth, bidding their biotics to clash and seek purchase. 

She gripped Aria's jaw tight as the other matriarch lunged, mouth crashing against Benezia's in a kiss that filled her lungs with fire. The tongue of flame swept lower until it settled between her thighs, transforming into a pulse of need. It would have been easy to surrender, to give up everything but sensation, but a swift resolution would not be a satisfying one.

Her teeth sank into Aria's lower lip, provoking a growl, and roughened fingers shifted to capture the nape of Benezia's neck. Pleasure shot down her spine at the commanding hold, keeping her in the kiss until they both broke away, breathless as the meld collapsed. A drop of blood welled in the crescent of the bite, gloriously vivid against swollen purple skin.

“You really want to play that hard?” Aria asked, voice cut half an octave lower. “Because I won't hold back."

"Did it feel like I wanted you to hold back?" Adrenaline empowered her words with a lash of heat. "I could find a commando in any bar in Illium to take me to bed, and if you don't prove that you're better, I will."

"No breaking the skin." Aria wiped her mouth clean, eyes never leaving Benezia's. "Nothing on the face. Anything else?"

Benezia made a show of considering the question, intending to fray another thread of patience. "How attached are you to the furniture in this room?"

A bark of laughter escaped Aria's throat. "Not in any way whatsoever."

"Good." She drank the other matriarch in from head to toe, every inch of strength coiled and waiting to strike. "Don't keep me waiting."

Her back hit the door, forcing a half-taken breath out as a gasp. Aria's biotics crackled, leaping to Benezia's flesh in a thousand little darts as their lips met again. This kiss went deeper, a wealth of tongue and teeth that she savored, hands slipping down the front of Aria's jacket. Energy swelled in her palms, ready to shove the other matriarch back with force.

A blink before the burst, Aria reversed the polarity between them so fast that Benezia saw stars. Her wrists were pinned against the door with a slam that rattled her barriers, not just with a biotic hold, but with the bruising grip of Aria's hands.

It was a move of unparalleled skill; any lesser biotic would have caused a sudden, point-blank detonation.

"Does that usually work on your commandos?" Aria whispered against her lips. "They get so distracted about what they're about to get, they can't help themselves."

This was the clash she wanted. Blow for blow, Benezia was confident she could hold her own against Aria's biotics, but in pure physicality, there was no comparison. She wanted Aria to have to use that strength, to draw on more primal means to keep her under control.

"And what do you think you're about to get?" she purred back, keeping up a valiant struggle against the dual grasp, "Don't expect me to fall to my knees like one of your dancers."

"Fall? No." Aria's thigh bullied its way between Benezia’s own, pushing up the line of her dress. “I’ll put you there when you earn it.”

She silenced any answer Benezia might have given with another kiss, grip tightening as the glow of a warp jumped to Benezia’s fingertips. The pressure sent the energy sparking off every which way, beautiful but harmless.

Aria’s knee surged higher, finding friction against silken panties, and Benezia hissed between her teeth. She kept her hips still, but the solid presence revealed she was wet, and Aria’s low rumble of satisfaction signaled the other matriarch was all too aware.

“I wonder if you would be this worked up for Ione.” Aria’s teeth scraped the curve of Benezia’s neck, words hot and cruel as her mouth. “Or Thorema. She’s fucked more asari than an Omega porn star.”

Benezia’s face flushed purple. Aria had to be baiting her, but the comment about Thorema was the least risky to swallow. “Thorema is a dear friend.”

“And you don’t fuck your friends?” Aria edged her thigh higher, pinning Benezia’s hips in place against taut muscle. Her azure throbbed; she clenched tight around nothing. “Or maybe you’re just afraid she would be too kind. Because every guest at that party would kill to be where I am right now.”

A wicked bolt of arousal struck Benezia’s nerves, harsh as a justicar’s lash. Her biotics burst in the same instant, breaking Aria's grip and shoving her hard. The victory lasted for all of a second before a singularity spun her around. Benezia's barriers collapsed as Aria forced her back against the door, one hand on her nape and the other controlling her hips. 

Cool steel was a shock against Benezia's cheek, drawing out a shiver as Aria's thumb rolled a slow, possessive circle around the base of her skull. Heavy boots kicked narrow heels apart, and if not for the grip on her neck, Benezia knew she would have staggered. Held in the violent grace of Aria's hand, she bit back a moan.

"Time to get you out of this dress." A wisp of energy took hold of Benezia's zipper and drew down in one continuous motion, baring the line of her back until the swell of her hips were exposed. "Pretty material, but not worth half as much as what's underneath."

It was a crude, objectifying remark, but all the more potent because of it. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“That it might.” Aria’s next flash of biotics pulled the dress down entirely, and Benezia shivered as her exposed breasts met the surface of the door. The whisper-thin material of her bra was doing no favors. “But so will taking exactly what I want from every gorgeous inch of you."

Aria gave the column of her neck another firm squeeze, and Benezia couldn't silence a gasp. The dress fell in a halo of fabric around her feet, its tight sheath immediately replaced by a ripple of energy caressing bare skin. It was slow, methodically exploring her inch by inch, like the tip of a knife marking her spine. 

When the hand at Benezia's hip fell to the curve of her ass, she tensed with anticipation. Aria's fingers dug in, manipulating soft flesh until a moan worked its way between her teeth. She ached just inches away from that vicious touch, desire clawing at the pit of her stomach like a ravenous beast. This wasn't about being teased or tormented; Benezia needed her mind away from—

"You're trembling." Aria's comment was punctuated by a hard spank, and the siren song of heat and pain in unison cut Benezia's train of thought short. "If you want something, you should ask for it."

"Go fuck yourself," Benezia hissed as anger blossomed in her chest, spilling over in hot relief. They were words she could almost never out loud, swallowed down like seeds until the rage took root. "I don't owe you anything."

The next spank struck the same spot, Aria's biotics sharpening the sting. "No, you don’t, but that’s the best part. You chose this.”

She had. It was not a mistake so much as a willful rebellion, for centuries of scrutiny coalesced into a weight that was agonizing to bear. Benezia remembered so many years when she thrived in the theatre of it all, using the endless cycle of attention to promote the causes that roused her passion, raising artists into the spotlight, giving the marginalized a voice. 

Yet the hearts and minds she believed had been swayed were far more fickle than Benezia ever accounted for. So many trusted confidants had withdrawn their hands, but even worse were those who sought to sabotage her directly, punishing her and Aethyta both. For so many to return in her bondmate’s absence gave an aura of falsehood to every interaction, like rust haunting metal until its protection shattered.

“You stay here with me,” Aria snapped, and with her command came a spike of energy centered directly on Benezia’s nape.

The vibration, curling heat and a shock of pleasure—but assuredly a shock, so intense and sudden that Benezia could barely pair one syllable to another to form a thought—wrenched a moan from her throat. Another ripple of biotics left Benezia dizzy before she remembered to breathe, clutching at the door despite the singularity forcibly holding her in place. 

“Do you understand?” Aria’s breath was scathing against the corner of her jaw. “You focus on here and now. You're not allowed to be anywhere else.”

She managed a nod as the energy tapered off, black spots dancing at the edge of her vision. Rough fingers dragged Benezia’s underwear down to her knees, letting gravity take them the rest of the way. When Aria's hand cupped between her thighs, Benezia could scarcely believe how wet she was, leaving dark leather slick with mere contact.

"Spread your legs wider," Aria ordered.

It would have been easy to obey, but none of this was meant to be easy. "Getting tired of multi-tasking?"

Perhaps her voice was stripped of its higher notes, cast to a breathless rasp, but it was defiant nonetheless. Benezia shuddered as a flare of violet energy looped around her thighs, seizing them both and enacting Aria's will. Her azure was right against the palm of Aria's hand, spread open under that singular, controlling touch.

"No, but I do try to reward good behavior." Teeth grazed Benezia's shoulder, then sank deep, hard enough to bruise. The sudden jolt of pain made her twitch, pressing against Aria's fingers and twisting the feeling into pure pleasure. "You're dripping all over me and I've barely gotten started. When was the last time someone touched you like this?"

It had been less than a decade, but only now could Benezia admit that she walked away unsatisfied. There was a pleasure house in Serrice that catered specifically to matriarchs, offering impenetrable privacy and a full suite of services. Every consort there possessed a refined secondary--or tertiary--education in matters ranging from political science to military history, intent on engaging their clients through intellect as well as eroticism. Only the best would do, and no desire was refused.

She had asked for someone who understood the loss of a bondmate. 

Delara was a whip of a matron, spry in both body and mind. Serving as a consort came late in life after nearly four centuries as a doctor. Her empathy was boundless, and she possessed a presence that Benezia found soothing the moment they met. The experience should have been everything she needed--a place to drop her guard, swathed in understanding--yet even honest tears and a gentle, genuine joining assuaged little.

"How long do you think?" She hissed, and anguish twisted through the question, crushing both heart and lungs.

Then Aria drew two fingers along her folds in one firm pass, summoning a hot line of friction, and Benezia was hard-pressed to think at all. Biotics crackled between every inch of exposed skin they shared, the charge rippling through the other matriarch's touch, driving a moan from Benezia's lips. Aria's mouth was brand and blade against her neck, leaving marks down its curve with the edge of teeth.

" _ Goddess _ ." It was equal parts plea and prayer, buried deep in Benezia's throat as Aria worked her over, swift and relentless. 

She could scarcely put another syllable together when the hold on her tightened, Aria's hips finding a rhythm behind her hand. The pace was hard, almost thoughtless, but it felt too good to be anything but finely honed ambition. Calloused fingertips swept across sensitive flesh, the end of each stroke finding where pleasure coalesced into one tight, aching point. Benezia would have rocked into the touch, were she not pinned like a  _ teru _ against the door.

Slick need answered the building friction, twisting inside her and clenching tight. Every nerve in Benezia's body screamed with sensation, pulsing from the nodes in the nape of her neck down to her azure, further to trembling thighs. She was unbalanced, overwhelmed, but it didn't matter as long as Aria kept control, as long as the other matriarch didn't stop touching her--

"I don't expect you to last," Aria growled in her ear. "In fact, I don't think I want you to."

Out of sheer stubbornness, Benezia felt the temptation to resist, but Aria wouldn't grant her a second to catch her breath, much less regain any self-control. Pleasure spun through her, coiling tighter and tighter until she was bound in ten thousand threads of bliss. They severed all at once as Benezia cried out, release stealing away every fleeting thought. 

Aria didn't stop, spreading slick heat with every movement, the rhythm of her fingers only pausing to weave tight little circles that drew out aftershock after aftershock until Benezia's knees threatened to buckle. They would have, if not for Aria holding her up through sheer force of will. It was too much, each breath like a solar flare in her lungs, eyes glazed over with biotic constellations, but Aria still didn't cease until a whimper was wrenched from high in Benezia’s throat.

The keening, almost animal sound would have embarrassed her, but as tides of pleasure settled, so did Benezia’s mind. Her next breath was steady, relaxed.

Another breath after, the phantom of Aria’s biotics slipped away from her skin, releasing their hold. The other matriarch’s fingers drew a sticky, deliberate trail down Benezia’s thigh as she let out a low laugh, blooming with arrogance.

“Not bad for a warm-up,” Aria murmured, “but I bet you could take twice that and still be eager to spread your legs.”

With a thought and a flicker of newly freed fingers, Benezia sent Aria flying across the room. She turned to face her right as Aria struck a chair, crushing it into a tangle of synthetic alloys. Reflexive barriers flashed and absorbed the impact, preventing damage to everything but the furniture.

Surrounded by a halo of silver debris, Aria still somehow managed to look regal, the queen of the void that consumed everything she touched. Then she rose to her feet with a fluid grace that would make any maiden huntress blush.

“Cute.” Violet sparks burst to life in Aria’s fist. “But I’m only going to enjoy this if you really try to hurt me.”

Pain wasn’t Benezia’s goal, but it could be an indirect consequence. In true combat, there was no time for subtlety; force reigned, tempered only by control and timing. Yet a test of ability resembled a duel more than a brawl--energy contested back and forth searching for an opening, the finest hints of weakness. Her biotics shimmered, refusing to take shape. Instead, she let them mold against Aria's, cradling that power with a gentle grasp.

One that could crush what it held in a blink, if need be.

Yet that was crude, and she was inclined to show off. A subtle lash broke away from the rest, tugging at the collar of Aria's jacket before letting it go. 

The other matriarch stiffened, then smirked. "Right through the barrier. You  _ are _ good."

She expected a surge of power, the brutal shove back, but Aria moved in the same instant. Benezia had a measure of close-quarters training, enough to disarm an attacker by hand or slip an infiltrator's stealthy hold, yet as violet blurred her vision, it was difficult not to laugh. Aria didn't want her dead or incapacitated, only the slightest bit off-balance.

The boot that hooked her ankle canceled any momentum Benezia might have had against the splashy biotic push. Even when the clash of energies canceled itself out, gravity still made its will known. Her bare back met a cold, hard edge, sending a shiver along overheated skin. Stone. It was the counter.

"I want you looking me in the eyes this time," Aria whispered as energy seized Benezia's wrists like spectral hands, pinning them to the counter too. "Wouldn't want your mind wandering."

She slipped one glowing cuff with a sharp rebuke of power, but the rest of Aria's body pressed forward, forcing her knees apart. Warmed leather met sensitive flesh, and Benezia's distracted moan let Aria capture her free hand again.

The grip was steel now, holding tight as Aria rolled her hips, gloating at the distant friction with a predator's pride in her eyes. Benezia felt a new spark of biotics taking shape where their bodies met, the base centered just above Aria's azure, and the shifting length seeking between her slick folds. She gasped and writhed as the energy slipped inside her, joining them together.

"Clever," Benezia managed to say, refusing to let pleasure dull her wits, "if only because you can't keep my hands down without using your own."

Aria's eyes narrowed. "Maybe I should be fucking your mouth instead."

"Maybe," Benezia replied wryly, then purposefully squeezed around Aria's biotics.

It only provided an echo of sensation, but an echo was enough. She saw Aria's eyes fall half-lidded from the sudden surge of pleasure before the older matriarch shook it off with an aggrieved growl. "Tease."

The energy spread her wider, deeper, and Benezia gasped, both hands clenched into fists. It was clearly Aria's attempt at vengeance, but in this moment, being overtaken was exactly what she needed.

"Move," Benezia hissed, "and come  _ here _ ."

Aria could have rebuked her for the demand in any number of ways, but she settled for drawing her hips back, dragging a groan of protest from Benezia's lips before slamming forward into a deep thrust. Benezia's cry of relief was muffled by a hard kiss as Aria's weight settled on top of her, body finding a rhythm.

"Missing me already?" Aria whispered against her lips.

"You, somewhat," Benezia murmured back, another moan building in her throat, "but what you're doing to me, far more so."

Aria's pace quickened, cutting their banter with another spike in pleasure. The easy slide of the energy inside her was relentless and intoxicating, and Benezia draped her legs around Aria's hips to keep the other matriarch from going far. She enjoyed the play at resistance, but goddess, it was so nice to indulge with someone inside her, someone who needed her as much as she needed them.

Even if she hadn't expected Aria's name to be on that list.

Tattooed lips kissed and bit down her throat, chasing the pulse there before a hot flicker of Aria's tongue stole a hint of sweat off her collarbone. The next target was the curve of her breasts, and Benezia welcomed the contact with a less than subtle arch of her back, feeling the next thrust at a sharper angle.

If her hands were free, she would have them on Aria's nape, guiding that eager mouth to worship her. It would be just like--

"Talk," Benezia gasped, "I need you to keep talking."

She felt Aria’s surprise, a second’s hesitation that made the rhythm of biotics inside her flicker, but the other matriarch adapted in a blink. With a brusque push, her elbows were on either side of Benezia’s head, vivid blue eyes a mere inch away. Between the violet tint to her skin and the deeply etched tattoos, there was no mistaking Aria for anyone else.

“Much as I do enjoy the sound of my own voice," Aria whispered, tilting her hips, "I think you can ask me more politely than that."

Had it been for any other reason, Benezia would have kept her mouth stubbornly shut, but more than anything, she wanted to sink back into that headspace again. " _ Please _ ."

Aria's answer was a staggering thrust, and flickers of biotic energy rose to tease and caress Benezia's azure, every subtle vibration drawing another sound of delight from her throat. "Oh, now that word looks beautiful leaving your mouth. Say it again."

She did, for every plea earned another filthy reprieve from Aria's mouth, a dozen twisted promises until the bliss pulsing through her body was too much to bear. Her first orgasm had taken the edge off, but this release was deep and satisfying as she thrashed under Aria's weight, pinned back down by every push of the other matriarch's hips.

By the time it was over, they were both breathing hard, and the energy flowed back under Aria's skin in a slow wave, freeing Benezia's wrists and leaving her aching, empty. It managed to be both a frustration and a relief, but she was more distracted by the black pools of Aria's eyes, flooded with unsatisfied desire.

Benezia sat up on the counter by grabbing the front of Aria's jacket, and when her feet met the floor again, she yanked the leather down, baring the sculpted lines of both shoulders underneath. "So have I earned it?"

"What?" The rasp underlining Aria's voice made her shiver; it was need consuming control.

"You said I could be on my knees when I earned it," Benezia answered, fingers and biotics undoing the buckles across Aria's chest and hips. "Have you come to a verdict?"

"Shut up and get your mouth on me," Aria growled back.

She would have laughed, but the satisfaction was just the same kissing at the hollows of Aria's collarbones and teasing her teeth over each breast. Benezia sank down in one slow, fluid movement, tracing her tongue over firm muscle and yielding skin, mirrored by the smooth line of her palms down Aria's back. For good measure, she groped the curve of her ass, kneading at the tension there until Aria groaned between grit teeth.

Benezia swept her tongue in one measured, exploratory stroke over Aria's azure, and her entire mouth came back slick. She didn't mean to tease -- not exclusively, anyway -- but as she sought out where Aria was most sensitive, one harsh hand grabbed the back of her head and gripped tight. Calloused fingers slid against the delicate folds of her nape, and Benezia muffled a moan against the second set framing her lips.

"I know you're enjoying yourself, but that doesn't mean you get to keep me waiting," Aria hissed, and a faint biotic spark from her fingertips made Benezia shudder. "Put that mouth to work, T'Soni."

It wasn't work at all, but she wouldn't say that aloud. There was something meditative about focusing on the deeply physical -- the heat, the distinct taste, the tremor of tension behind Aria's hips -- without the anticipation of a meld hanging in the air. Aria kept her mind utterly sealed, leaving nothing but a well of pleasure to draw from and drawn from again. The constant pressure on the back of Benezia's head left her catching ragged breaths between Aria's thighs, hastening the rhythm of her tongue to compensate.

A slow rake of her nails from hip to knee made Aria snarl a blasphemous curse, and Benezia answered with a firm suck. Aria was a flashpoint of need, tight and trembling, every defense unraveled from the flicker of her tongue, the bow of her lips. So  _ vulnerable _ . Even on her knees, she had perfect control, and that was more satisfying than words could ever be.

Aria's orgasm was quiet but unmistakable. When Benezia glanced up, those cruel eyes were closed, a shout trapped in the subtle quiver of Aria's throat. She kept her tongue at the same relentless pace, drawing out the sharpest peak of release until Aria staggered, shoulders sagging as a hard exhale was punched out of her lungs. 

"Fuck." The iron grip on Benezia's nape released, and Aria's eyes fluttered open. "You are exhausting, you know that?"

The barb was glancing, with no venom to speak of. "Yes. It's by design."

Benezia stifled a laugh at Aria's irritated huff, and accepted the hand offered to help her to her feet. She immediately regretted standing when an ache rippled through her knees -- the bedroom floor was expensive, not comfortable -- but after one session against the door and another over the counter, her entire body had reason to complain. Such was the cost of trysts at her age.

"Go on the bed if you like," Aria murmured, fingers slipping free. "I'll be a minute."

Benezia expected the other matriarch to make a call, or confer with her bodyguard, but Aria went to a nearby cabinet instead. Curiosity warred with comfort, so she lay back on cool sheets, making a mild show of adjusting the pillows while keeping her eyes ahead.

The black box that Aria set on the counter was nondescript, but the three biological locks on the lid were less so. When it clicked open, Benezia saw a dozen vivid vials lying side by side, with a top-of-the-line vaporizer tucked underneath. Aria pried three of the vials and the vaporizer free, fitting one into the bottom with the sharp crack of a seal.

It wasn't the first time a lover had done drugs in front of her -- Benezia would politely describe her maiden years as 'colorful' -- but Aria’s matter-of-fact ritual spoke more of prescription than habit.

"What do you take?" Benezia asked softly.

Aria raised an eyebrow, but the weight of her gaze was withering, a wordless accusation.

"I'm not asking for High Command," she clarified, and meant it. If they wanted personal information on Aria, they would have to offer her far more than they did now. "But that's a very high dosage."

"It has to be." The first vial had an acidic orange sheen, spilling up the glass like a poisonous cloud. Aria pressed a button on the side, and inhaled deep, holding her breath for so long Benezia was idly impressed. "Asari surgeons do great cosmetic work, but Patriarch still turned half my body inside out before I won."

She hid her surprise by biting her tongue. "It's pain medication?"

"Nerve regenerative," Aria murmured, throwing away one vial before attaching the next. "Keeps biotic connections strong, considering how much I had reattached to my spine back in the day."

Biotics that Aria relied on every single day, putting said connections under constant stress. After almost a thousand years, it was probably the only way to keep that part of her nervous system intact. Technology had improved over the last century, but there was only so much to be done for what the body already attempted to heal.

"You know this one." Aria tapped her thumb against the vaporizer, cradling a pale blue liquid. "But vanity's in my best interest."

Benezia knew the technical name, but it was only ever called  _ liquid youth _ . It was one of Thessia's most profitable exports, although rarely used on the planet itself. Looking older was to an asari's benefit more often than not, save for those maintaining a cover identity of significantly different age. 

Most cases, but not all. On Omega, there were too many fast-born races for age to be associated with anything but weakness, an inevitable slowdown. She wasn't surprised Aria supplemented with chemistry -- even the best genetics could compensate for so much.

The last vial was what interested -- and concerned -- her. It was a violent, mercurial red, moving under the glass of its own accord. Yet Aria used it just the same, and held it in her lungs almost twice as long. A hint of crimson smoke spilled past her lips, then spread harmlessly out into the air.

"Dare I ask?" She kept the question mild, but the brief flare of veins in Aria's throat was rather disconcerting. 

When no answer came, Benezia assumed the question had been ignored, but Aria put the entire kit away before joining her on the bed. She sprawled out against an indulgent collection of pillows, eyes half-lidded. "I need it to sleep."

There were countless sleep medications on the market -- Benezia's own physician had offered her a very extensive list in the past -- but what Aria had taken was unrecognizable. "And if you don't have it?"

Aria laughed softly. "Isn't that obvious? I usually get four or five days of work done before things go awry."

This time, Benezia couldn't stifle her surprise. There were endless rumors about Aria keeping watch over Afterlife without a moment's rest, but High Command's agents had given the gossip little credit, assuming an exchange with body doubles or stims to keep conscious. The idea that the other matriarch suffered from severe insomnia -- and turned it into an advantage -- was the most Aria T'loak story she'd ever heard.

"That sounds miserable," she said aloud.

"Mm." Aria's eyes closed completely, and Benezia wondered how long she had been awake before this. "Try not to kill me before morning. I haven't given Bray a raise yet this year."

She'd considered many endings to this scenario -- being forced out before the afterglow faded, an argument that soured the mood, perhaps even an attempt at blackmail -- but Aria's quiet collapse beside her had not been one of them. Benezia's fingers briefly twitched; she could have called so many people on her omnitool, from Spectres to High Command, but allowed her hand to relax. Fatigue washed over her.

A night of peace would be so much easier. She would be foolish not to consider that this was a test on Aria's part, attempting to bait out a betrayal, but the suspicion found no footing. No matter the politics, no matter the consequences, there were moments without motive, or everyone involved would lose their minds.

So she closed her eyes in an inordinately comfortable bed, and awoke before dawn. Aria was still unconscious, laying on her side in the manner of someone used to sleeping alone, and didn't stir when Benezia sat up. 

A farewell was irrelevant, but the scent of sex lingering on her skin, combined with sweat and stale perfume, needed more direct intervention. Benezia found the shower without much trouble, and by the time she was dressed again, Aria was sitting up and scrolling through her omnitool. 

Bright eyes flickered up to meet hers. "Naket's en route. The sealed casket will be waiting for your signature at the transport."

She held back her gratitude; it was instinctive, but unwarranted. "And the omnitool?"

"Packed in the false bottom," Aria confirmed.

There were no more words exchanged when she left, no false promises of a reunion or future cooperation. 

With Aria, it was better not to have expectations.

Lieutenant Ordaca was waiting for her outside the bedroom door; the guard must have been changed some time before sunrise. Her opposition was another asari, narrow as Kurinth's spear, with an equally sharp smile and a set of hand-done ritual tattoos. While a skin-tight white outfit left little to the imagination, Benezia knew at least two weapons had to be hiding just out of sight.

"Musahir," Benezia said by way of greeting, and the lieutenant saluted with a smile.

"Good morning,  _ auma _ ." Musahir tilted her head towards the door. "Need anything else before you go?"

She appreciated the marine's energy at such an early hour, but thankfully had no need for it. "I'm fine, thank you." 

"Make sure to eat breakfast," Aria's guard quipped, and Benezia withheld a hum of amusement when a hint of purple lit up Musahir's face.

Clearly the pair had enjoyed their small talk.

The skycar was waiting where she had left it, but Shiala was in the back seat this time, minding the metrics on her omnitool. Benezia expected she hadn't slept at all, but considering that Musa sat down to drive, voicing the observation aloud seemed cruel.

As Nos Astra's skyline came into sharp clarity, Benezia wondered if she had made a mistake. 

Yet in full view of the sun under a new day, the only conclusion was that she should have done it so much sooner.

—


End file.
